


Nobody's Perfect

by VillaKulla



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: 69, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Gangsters, Jazz - Freeform, Lingerie, M/M, Musicians, Prohibition Era, Some Like It Hot AU, Train Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 13:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillaKulla/pseuds/VillaKulla
Summary: When struggling jazz musicians Billy Rocks and Goodnight Robicheaux accidentally witness a murder in prohibition-era Chicago, they're forced to join a band on the next train out of town. The catch? It's an all-girls band. And while neither has a problem with their new getup, there may be a problem with just how good they think the other looks. Like really good. Cue train sex and lots of 1920s lingerie.(Some Like It Hot AU)Mag7 Week // Day 3





	Nobody's Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> A while ago I rewatched Some Like it Hot, and apparently it crossed with some Mag7 wires in my brain. And since the themes for Day 3 of Mag7 Week were 'AU' and 'Unexpected', I felt this definitely counted as both:P Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> P.S. If you haven't seen Some Like It Hot it's one of the funniest movies ever made. Its attitudes towards gender are extremely goodnatured, and while of course we have broader definitions of gender today, it was really quite surprisingly subversive for 1959. And also it's just plain hilarious and a classic for a reason. You should definitely see it if you haven't already!

 

 

_ Chicago, 1925 _

 

 

“Well this has officially been your worst idea ever.”

 

“Come now, Billy, I highly doubt it’s –“

 

“The  _worst_.”

 

Billy stopped and adjusted his grip on the case for his double bass, in the hopes that it would cut some of the sharp wind. The cold wind blew through the city blocks, sending spirals of snow buffeting up the sides of the tall grey buildings.

 

“Oh come on, we’ve got to keep moving, it’s freezing out here!”

 

Billy slowly lifted his head to stare at Goodnight Robicheaux. If he’d felt any more hot-tempered he would have been able to melt the snow.

 

“ _You_  are the one who decided to bet our fucking COATS! _”_ Billy burst out.

 

“And in hindsight I’m starting to think that was perhaps an unseasonable idea,” Goodnight said apologetically, turning back to look at Billy, the wind whipping through his sandy hair, his knuckles bright red where they were gripping his saxophone case. “But my man at the tracks swore he’d be able to rig the mechanical rabbit. How was I supposed to know he’d get electrocuted?”

 

“Because he’s an idiot and so are you,” Billy growled, the wind cutting through his pinstripe suit. “We are never betting on dog races again.”

 

“No you’re right,” Goodnight said somberly. “Ponies are a more reliable racket anyways.”

 

Billy watched Goodnight continue to walk down the snowy street, holding his sax case to his chest, shivering but determined, and Billy opened and closed his mouth incredulously. He didn’t even know where to  _start_.

 

“There is  _nothing_ reliable about betting!” Billy yelled, hurrying to catch up, narrowly avoiding an icy patch of pavement. He drew level with Goodnight and looked at him witheringly. “The only reliable thing about it is you  _losing_. Every time it’s ‘Billy, I’ve got an idea’. And you swear on your mother’s life it’s the best idea you’ve had yet. And then before we know it we have no money, no credit, and now no coats!  _Every_ damn time! And you know why?”

 

“I’m sure you’ll tell me,” Goody said, teeth chattering.

 

“Because you’re a  _sucker_! And you know what that makes me? An even bigger sucker! Because I let you talk me into it! Every time!”

 

Billy continued to walk down the city streets, still fuming. He felt Goodnight turn his head to look at him.

 

“Feel better getting that out?”

 

“No I don’t feel better, I’m still freezing.”

 

“Okay look, there’s a café up ahead,” Goodnight said, jerking his chin in its direction, and tucking it back into the collar of his shirt. “Let’s stop and get a coffee.”

 

“With what money?” Billy asked. “Goody, we’re  _broke_.”

 

“Okay fine, there’s a parking garage right there, we can at least get out of this wind for a minute.”

 

“Fine,” Billy scowled, following Goodnight into a narrow alley, through a back door that they jimmied open, and into a large, dim parking garage. It was much less frigid already, and he and Goody set down their instrument cases and each started rubbing their hands together, blowing on their freezing fingers.

 

Once Billy could feel some of the blood returning to his extremities he crossed his arms tightly and leaned back against a concrete pillar. He turned to look at Goody who was doing the same, but looking more chipper than anyone in these temperatures had a right to.

 

“Are you not cold at all?” Billy asked in disbelief.

 

“Yeah,” Goody said shrugging. “But it was colder in France.”

 

Billy finally realized Goody really was shivering hard and immediately felt like a heel. If Goodnight could volunteer his services to one of the bloodiest battles in the Great War, Billy could deal with volunteering his coat.

 

“Oh get over here,” Billy grumbled holding out his arms and Goody went into them immediately. Billy wrapped his arms around Goodnight, rubbing his hands over him, trying to warm him up, holding him close to his chest.

 

“So what now?” Billy said. “Are there any gigs for us?”

 

“I called Nelly at the office this morning, and every band is full. No one needs a couple of extra musicians.”

 

“What about Rigoletti’s?” Billy asked, referring to one of the clubs they usually played.

 

“Nah they got raided last night.”

 

“No shit?”

 

“Yeah. Someone’s been tipping off the police about speakeasies.”

 

“Your country and its damn prohibition laws,” Billy sighed.

 

“You say that like I wrote them,” Goody said, sounding amused.

 

Billy snorted and rubbed some warmth back into Goody’s arms. “I think I know you a  _little_ better than that. What about Masseria’s?”

 

“Also raided.”

 

“Stefano’s? Wait, don’t tell me…raided?”

 

“Bingo.”

 

“Is there  _anything?”_ Billy asked desperately.

 

Goodnight hummed. “Well Nelly did tell me about one band. ‘Sweet Sue and her Society Syncopators’. They need a double bassist and a tenor sax to be on a train with them out of Chicago to _night_. Heading straight for Florida to play three weeks’ worth of gigs, all expenses paid.”

 

Billy stared at him. “So why aren’t we taking it?”

 

Goody grinned. “It’s a girls’ band.”

 

Billy rolled his eyes. But he leaned back against the wall, still holding Goody to him.

 

“So we’ve got no gigs…no money…and now no coats. We’ve officially got nothing.”

 

“Well that’s not true,” Goodnight said, lifting his chin to look up at Billy. When Billy looked curiously down at him, Goody gave him a small smile.

 

“I’ve got you. I mean…haven’t I?” he finished a bit more hesitantly.

 

Billy felt his heart clench and looking down into Goody’s eyes, snowflakes in the man’s lashes, Billy didn’t feel cold at all anymore.

 

“Course you’ve still got me,” Billy murmured. And then he was dipping his head and kissing Goody. He shivered at the soft, icy press of their lips contrasting with the hot hint of Goody’s tongue.

 

They broke off with a gasp.

 

“This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for betting our coats,” Billy muttered, but he was leaning forward again to kiss Goody harder, winding his freezing fingers into the man’s collar.

 

“I’m sorry,” Goodnight mumbled, finally sounding somewhat abashed for his idea.

 

“Yeah you’d better be,” Billy said against his lips. And he pulled Goody closer against him, and kissed him properly. They stayed necking against the pillar. Eventually Billy felt Goody’s hands slide around to his ass and pull him in closer. Goodnight tilted his hips forward, rubbing himself against Billy, and Billy bit back a moan to feel how hard the man was.

 

“Warming up yet?” Goody purred in Billy’s ear.

 

Billy shuddered and lifted his head from where he’d been sucking a mark into Goody’s neck. He cast a glance around the garage, pulling them over to a shadowy corner.

 

“Perfect,” Billy said. And then he shoved Goody against the wall and immediately launched himself at him, kissing him as hard as he could.

 

Goodnight groaned into his mouth and hooked one of his legs around Billy’s, rutting up into him.

 

They stayed there in the shadowy garage, pressed against the wall, lips working furiously, hands gripping each other’s suits, hips pressed and straining together as they rocked together clumsily but no less heatedly.

 

Billy’s hands had just slid to Goody’s belt, when Goody pushed him back a little.

 

“Wait wait wait,” he said, eyes blown wide in arousal and attention. “I hear something.”

 

Billy let go of Goody’s belt and cocked his head. And then he heard it too. Footsteps.

 

“Come on,” he said, trying the door leading back out into the alley but it had locked behind them automatically. The footsteps grew closer and Billy spotted another door further away. He tugged Goody’s hand and they scurried quickly over to it, crouched behind the parked cars, keeping their heads low.

 

They’d almost reached the door when a group of men strode into the parking garage. Billy pulled them behind a parked car automatically. The peered over the hub of the car.

 

“So. You thought you could just snitch on Bartholomew Bogue and get away with it?” a voice oozed through the garage.

 

Billy and Goody looked at each other eyes wide, Goody mouthing ‘Bogue?’ at him. Everyone knew of the ‘Robber Baron’, one of the most lucrative gangsters in Chicago. He’d built his fortune on bootlegging and private speakeasies all across town. Billy and Goody had played in more than a few of them, but had never seen the man himself. Most who did never saw anything else again.

 

“We ain’t no stool pigeons, swear on my mother!” a voice quavered.

 

“Fuck yer mother!” growled a low, rough voice.

 

“I already did,” cackled another one, and the other cronies of the gang laughed heartily.

 

“That’s enough,” came Bogue’s cool voice slipping through the garage as icy as the wind outside, and the laughter died out immediately.

 

Billy and Goodnight lifted their heads a fraction more over the car and saw a row of men lined up against a wall, a chopper squad of gangsters in front of them, all holding machine guns. One of the men wore a long black coat, and was surveying the scene with the air of a lord taking in his subjects and not being particularly impressed with what he saw.

 

“Over five of my joints have been raided because someone keeps tipping off the fuzz. Must have made yourselves quite a pretty penny, acting as the cops’ favourite group of snitches, didn’t you?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about –” one of the more daring hostages got out.

 

“ _Don’t_ lie to me, boy,” Bogue’s voice cracked coldly, and Goodnight and Billy exchanged another uneasy glance. Billy knew what was about to happen and yet some small, childish part of him was hoping it wouldn’t, not  _really_ , because people don’t just execute people in the middle of the day in downtown garages…

 

“Please, you gotta understand, I’ve been broke, and –”

 

“That’s enough,” Bogue said pulling in a drag of his cigarette. He exhaled with his eyes closed and flicked some ash to the floor.

 

“Mr. Denali,” he said in a lazy voice, eyes still closed. And then there was the lightning crack of machine guns, rattling away.

 

Billy and Goody ducked behind the car, plugging the ears against the racket which seemed to be coming from all angles as it echoed around the garage. It felt like they had gunmen over them, beside them, the tremors from the noise even rising up through their feet.

 

The sound finally cut out, and the silence rang out in the garage, the sound of bullets still seeming to hang from the walls.

 

And then in the middle of the silence was a choked sound and it came from right beside Billy. He immediately clamped a hand over Goody’s mouth but it was too late. The gunmen were already turning around.

 

“Who was that?” barked out a voice.

 

Goody eyes widened and he and Billy looked at each other. Billy looked over at the door, but they wouldn’t reach it without being seen, not when they’d already been made.

 

The sound of footsteps began to clink across the concrete floor, and Billy looked frantically around their corner for anything he could use as a distraction. His eyes fell on the crates of liquor that had been stashed there, waiting for pickup from some other thugs. He carefully pulled out a bottle which scraped gently against the glass sides of the others. He looked at Goodnight and mimed the motion of a lighter.

 

Goodnight nodded, immediately understanding, and he reached into his pocket to hand Billy his lighter. And though he still looked shaken, his hands were steady as he undid his tie without Billy needing to ask, and handed it over to him. And then he was smoothing down his shirt, taking in a breath, and popping up from behind the car, clutching his saxophone case.

 

“My apologies, but it looks like I lost my keys,” Goody said addressing the group of gangsters. “I don’t suppose any of you gentlemen are headed uptown, are you?”

 

The goons were so surprised they stopped in their tracks, and Billy frantically worked open the top of the liquor bottle while Goody distracted them.

 

“Who the hell are you?” one said in a gravelly voice.

 

“Never mind who he is, what did he see?” growled another.

 

“From down there? Absolutely nothing,” Goodnight said with a wave. “Didn’t hear anything either, nothing except a bunch of cars backfiring. Nothing to make a fuss about.”

 

Billy had gotten the bottle open and some liquor sloshed over his fingers. He stuffed Goody’s tie inside of it, leaving a cloth trail out the top. He reached towards the car and unscrewed the fuel cap as quietly as he could.

 

“Hang on…ain’t I seen you before?” a gangster asked as he squinted at Goody’s sax case.

 

“Yeah,” another one said slowly. “I think he plays in one of your clubs, sir.”

 

“That so?” Bogue asked. He began to walk towards Goody, the rest of his thugs following behind.

 

Billy placed his makeshift Molotov cocktail inside the gas tank and flicked Goody’s lighter on, letting the tail of the tie catch fire. Goody’s eyes slid down to it and he began to edge towards the door.

 

“It’s possible, but I’m afraid I have a gig soon, can’t really chat,” he said with a laugh. “Take care, boys.”

 

The men laughed too, unpleasantly as they walked closer towards the car.

 

“You’re a funny one,” Bogue said with a sneer. “Keep laughing. It’ll just make this so much –“

 

“Now!” Billy yelled grabbing Goody’s wrist with one hand and his bass with the other. And they sprinted towards the door, the gangsters letting out a shout and lunging after them. And just when they reached the car, there was a deafening boom as the car  _exploded_ , knocking the gangsters back off their feet as they were hit with a wall of flames. Billy managed to glimpse one frantically trying to put out his jacket before they were out the door, the icy wind a shocking contrast, and they were running down the alley and back towards the main street.

 

They ran hellbent through the streets, rounding corners at random, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the garage as possible. Finally they happened across a corner store advertising a telephone.

 

“In here,” Goody called out to Billy, and they leapt inside.

 

“Keep a lookout,” Goody said, rummaging breathlessly in his pockets for some change.

 

“Who’re you calling?”

 

“My sister,” Goodnight said, pushing the coins into the slot.

 

“Which one?” Billy asked. Goodnight had four older sisters.

 

“The one who still talks to me,” Goodnight said tightly. And then he perked up:

 

“Sis! It’s me. Listen, I don’t have much time, but I need a favour. Do you still have the costumes from that play you did last year? Great. Don’t go anywhere, Billy and I are coming over.”

 

Goodnight hung up, and was placing another nickel into the phone.

 

“What are you  _doing?_ ” Billy hissed, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one had come in.

 

“We’ve gotta get out of town,” Goodnight said.

 

“I know, but how’s your sister gonna help?” Billy asked.

 

“I’ve got an idea,” Goodnight said grimly. And before Billy could make him elaborate, Goodnight was suddenly straightening up. Billy blinked at the way Goody cocked his head, his posture changing suddenly into something almost coquettish.

 

“I hear you need a couple of musicians?” he crooned in a high voice. Billy’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, but Goody didn’t notice.

 

“Mm hmm?” he hummed genteelly. “Mm hmm. Mm hmm. Mm hmm…”

 

Billy watched while Goody twirled the phone cord around his finger, and as Goody’s plan began to sink in, so did Billy’s stomach.

 

 

 

*

 

 

“Okay remember what I was saying about your worst idea ever? I take it back.  _This_ is officially your worst idea ever.”

 

They clicked their way down the train platform. Billy kept wanting to hunch over so as to not be overly visible to any gangsters waiting at the train station to see if two male musicians were trying to make their way out of town.

 

But as it turns out? You can’t hunch over when you’re wearing high heels.

 

So Billy kept moving, swinging one stilletoed foot in front in front of the other, and hoping that these potential gangsters weren’t on the lookout for female musicians.

 

“Oh quit complaining. I’m the one who had to shave my beard. God, I feel naked without it,” Goody griped, reaching up as though to rub his bare chin, but remembering just in time the copious amounts of makeup covering it.

 

“You feel naked without your  _beard_? I just feel naked in general!” Billy hissed. “One stiff breeze and we’re both going to get arrested.” He tugged down his dress as discreetly as he could. The velvet kept trying to ride up his hips, bunching underneath his coat.

 

“At least you look halfway decent,” Goodnight said, looking Billy up and down from beneath the pillbox hat he wore, dark blonde wig curling lightly beneath his chin. “I look like my Aunt Gertrude.”

 

Goodnight reached up, about to scratch at his scalp again, but Billy slapped his hand down.

 

“You trying to make your wig slip? After all the time I spent pinning it?”

 

“It’s  _itchy_ , Billy!”

 

Billy shook his hair behind his shoulders, and despite having every nerve on edge, he did feel a slight bit of gratitude he hadn’t needed to go through an entire box of bobby pins for himself, the way he’d done with Goody. His hair felt clean and thick and glossy from the way it had been blown out and set in a deep wave that hung over one eye.

 

“A little old fashioned, but I just don’t have the heart to give you a bob,” the hairdresser had sighed when she removed the rollers from Billy’s hair. “You look just like Greta Garbo.”

 

Billy had his doubts, but at least she hadn’t said he looked like a man in a red velvet dress. And that was probably the only reason he wasn’t having a complete meltdown as they continued clacking down the platform. Just half of a meltdown.

 

“And it still doesn’t feel like it’s on straight,” Goody kept grumbling. “But oh I forgot, you wouldn’t know about that. You’re already good to go, aren’t you, Mister Perfect Hair?”

 

He’d directed that last part to Billy, and Billy stopped walking, reached out for Goody’s elbow, and  _yanked_ him over to the relative privacy of a news kiosk. He ignored Goody’s yelp and fixed him with a steely glare.

 

“It’s  _Miss_ Perfect Hair!” Billy hissed.

 

“What are you –”

 

“Say it!”

 

“Alright,  _Miss_  Perfect Hair, sheesh!”

 

“Goody, we are  _girls_. And if you can’t keep up your own damn idea for five seconds, then we can turn around and walk right back downtown.”

 

Billy glanced over his shoulder and one of the newspaper headlines caught his eye. He grabbed it and brandished the front page at Goody.

 

“There! Look! ‘Fifteen dead in mob-related shooting.’ You want to make it seventeen? If we can’t keep this up, we can go straight back to where the mob will be waiting with open arms, and not because of how much they like our falsies either.”

 

“But that’s just it! Mine feel like they’re slipping, Billy!”

 

Goody bit his lip anxiously, and Billy almost threw his hands up in despair.

 

“And now you’re going to chew off your lipstick too!” Billy said.

 

“Oh what’s the use?” Goody said, looking wildly around the train platform. “You’re right, this is a terrible idea. We’re not going to last five seconds.”

 

Billy suddenly felt guilty from the way he’d been browbeating Goody. They were going to need all of Goody’s charms about them if they were going to get on this train at all, and here was Billy letting his own nerves get the better of both of them.

 

Billy sighed and took out the lipstick Goody’s sister had given them and tilted Goody’s chin up to reapply it.

 

“Look, you look fine,” Billy said, working the lipstick to the edges of Goody’s mouth. “Even your sister said she could barely recognize you. All we need to do is get out of town, and then we’ll take it from there. So just breathe and go be cute, okay?”

 

Goody nodded, squaring his shoulders. And he managed to send a coy look at Billy from under heavily-mascaraed lashes.

 

“Like this?” he asked, batting his eyes comically at Billy, and despite the circumstances, Billy felt his lips relax.

 

“Atta girl,” Billy said dryly. “Let’s go.”

 

And they continued to sashay down the platform in Goody’s sister’s clothes, shaved chins held high.

 

They reached a car that had a group of young women all chattering excitedly and holding instrument cases. Bingo. Billy and Goody hung back until the last one had stepped onboard, leaving behind a frazzled looking man and woman who had to be the managers. Goody fluffed out his wig and strode forward, Billy following suit.

 

“Is this the car for Sweet Sue and her Society Syncopators?” Goodnight purred, and the managers looked up in surprise.

 

“You the new girls?” the woman said. “About time. I see you’re the tenor sax, and you must be the bass. Oh…”

 

Billy lifted the small veil on his pillbox hat and arched an eyebrow at the woman who was now staring at him uncertainly.

 

“The office didn’t say you would be –“

 

“- so good looking?” Goody said with a tinkling laugh. “She gets that a lot. Don’t you, Billy?”

 

Goody blanched immediately at his slip, but Billy took it in stride, reaching out with a primly gloved hand to shake theirs.

 

“Billie. This is Gertrude.”

 

Goody looked up, eyes wide in objection, but Billy stared innocently ahead while he shook hands with the managers.

 

“That’s quite a grip,” the man laughed nervously.

 

“Well you know those bow-fiddles,” Goodnight said with a wave of his hand. “Small hands need not apply.”

 

“I suppose not,” the woman said looking them up and down, eyes narrowed. They stood demurely in front of her, clutching their instrument cases, doing their best to look like they weren’t sweating beneath their girdles. “Where’d you say you played again?”

 

“Oh here and there!” Goodnight replied airily. “If it’s a jazz or swing club we’ve probably set foot in it at some point! You know how it is in this town…more swinging than a playground!”

 

“Hmm,” the woman said. “Well don’t go telling the other girls or they're liable to get ideas about playing in gentlemen’s clubs. We try to keep them as far away from men as we can.”

 

“Happy to help,” Goody said, he and Billy determinedly not looking at each other.

 

“Well,” the woman said in a businesslike voice, looking at her clipboard. “That seems to be in order. Can I get your last names?”

 

“Andrews,” Billy and Goody said in unison and then stopped, having forgotten which of them was supposed to take that last name. The managers looked up with their brows furrowed.

 

“No relation!” Goody burst out with a tinted grin. “Aha ha ha!”

 

Billy winced. They were never going to get away with this, and any second now they’d be found out –

 

\- and then to his surprise, the managers laughed along with Goody, throwing their heads back like it was the most charming thing they ever heard. Goody just slid his eyes over to Billy and shrugged helplessly.

 

And then before Billy knew it he was being hustled onto the train, and he and Goody trying to fit their instrument cases through the narrow halls.

 

“Wasn’t  _I_ supposed to take Andrews?” Billy asked sotto voce while squeezing his bass between train cars, raising an eyebrow at him.

 

“Gertrude?” Goody just responded with a glare.

 

Billy shrugged. “Time to do your aunt proud.”

 

Goody sighed but then straightened up as the managers came back, saying one of them would have to sign them both in and fill out the necessary paperwork. He looked questioningly over at Billy who jerked his head as though to tell him to go on ahead. Billy would take the instruments through, and while that meant meeting the girls on his own, he would have taken twice as long to fill out any forms with writing. So he watched Goody trail after the managers, biting back a grin despite himself at the slight twitch to Goody’s hips. Goody’s actress sister had given them a crash course in walking in heels, which had turned out to be exactly that: a crash course. But once they’d gotten the hang of it, it had turned out to be surprisingly entertaining, and certainly Goody’s ass looked amazing when he walked like that, all poised on his toes as he was…

 

Billy cleared his throat, shifting their instrument cases in front of himself, mentally scolding himself for the direction his thoughts had taken. There could be no thinking about Goody’s ass while Billy was wearing this particular get-up. Not if Billy didn’t want to give themselves away in as prominent a manner as possible.

 

Billy rearranged his coat around himself and cast a glance to the train car on his right. He could hear a bubble of excited chatter swelling inside of the car. He chanced a look through the window on the door but the train car was rattling too much for him to make out much. All he saw was the glimpse of a furred sleeve moving past the door as the four-hundred tonnes of shaking steel steadily made its way out of Chicago.

 

Maybe it was their leaving the city that was making Billy feel bold enough to consider going in. He wasn’t too keen on entering the lioness’ den without Goody, but on the other hand he wasn’t going to freeze in between the train cars indefinitely. So before he could change his mind, he flicked his hair over his shoulders, picked up his chin, and opened the sliding door of the train car.

 

Everyone inside looked up, twenty pairs of mascaraed eyes widening in surprise.

 

“Is this the band?” Billy asked in a demurely husky voice, arching a recently-plucked brow.

 

One of the girls nodded, and needing no other invitation, Billy strode across the car, not making eye contact with anyone, his eyes fixed on a point on the opposite wall. He knew he probably looked aloof but in reality he was just trying not to fall on his damn face. He thought he’d gotten the hang of his stilettos quite quickly, but that was before he’d tried them out on a moving train.

 

He reached an empty seat in the car, aware of eyes still on him, trying not to feel too self-conscious as he set down the instruments.  _Just let them see the dress,_ he thought fervently, hoping for the same gasps of delight it had elicited from Goody’s sister, right before complaining that it had never looked that good on her. And sure enough as he let his coat slip off his shoulders, he heard a chorus of ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaahs’ behind him as the group took in the red velvet.

 

“Oh I  _love_ your dress,” a voice said, and Billy allowed himself a small smile as he shook his hair behind him and looked back while folding his coat.

 

“Thank you,” he said, making sure to pitch his voice a little higher than normal. “It’s getting old but I can’t seem to give it up.”

 

“I know what you mean,” the girl said nodding in agreement, bobbed curls bouncing with the motion. “My closet is getting fit to burst with things I never wear, or things that are out of season, but you never know if you’re going to  _need_ something in it eventually!”

 

To Billy’s relief this started an immediate group conversation about no one understanding that hanging onto clothes was because of thriftiness and not hoarding, and that allowed him to arrange the instruments in the corner with the others, and by the time he took a seat, crossing one fishnetted knee over the other, the atmosphere in the car had warmed up considerably.

 

“Which one are you?” a young redheaded woman asked, nodding towards the instruments.

 

“Double bass,” Billy said. “My partner is a tenor sax. H – she’ll be here in a minute.”

 

“I thought you might have been another singer,” the woman said. “Your voice is so musical.”

 

“So…where are you from?” another girl said, asking the question clearly on everyone else’s mind.

 

“The Sheboygan Conservatory of Music,” Billy said with the barest turn of his lips, and figured  _to hell with it_ , and winked, prompting all the girls to burst out laughing and sit a little closer, clearly finding him one of the more fascinating bandmates they’d had in a while.

 

“So…do you have a beau?” one of them asked eagerly.

 

“I thought we weren’t allowed,” Billy said innocently and all the girls rolled their eyes.

 

“Stupid rule,” a girl said. “And hypocritical too. We’re not allowed to have men around because it’s ‘too distracting’, and yet our manager out there is a complete perv who’s made a move on all of us. Don’t be surprised if he tries to spy on you while you’re changing.”

 

“I’m not the one who’ll get a surprise,” Billy couldn’t help muttering to himself.

 

“So how about it?” a young woman in furs asked. “ _Do_ you have a fella?”

 

Billy felt his lip tug up of its own volition. “Yeah.”

 

The girls oooh’d and asked eager questions that Billy tried his best to answer. No they weren’t married, yes he was a musician too, yes he was very handsome…

 

“And is he Korean too?”

 

“American,” Billy said shaking his head.

 

The girl sighed. “I played in a band with a Korean pianist once.  _So_ handsome. I’ve never seen browner eyes.”

 

“I don’t know,” Billy said, looking up as Goody finally entered the room, unable to help the way his face softened at him. “Blue eyes have always done it for me.”

 

Goody stared at him, obviously not sure what he’d just walked into but Billy just smiled.

 

“This is Gertrude Andrews. And I’m Billie Andrews,” he said to the room at large.

 

“No relation!” Goody trilled again with a winning smile, and it had its desired effect as the girls laughed delightedly and made room for him on the couch, and Goody strolled over to put himself at the center of the conversation as charmingly as he always did, this time with maybe just a bit more hair primping than usual. And Billy settled back into his seat, relieved to let Goody take over, but not as on edge as he expected he’d feel by now. He realized with a start that was the first time he’d ever been alone in a room with only women, but it had been so warm and matter-of-fact he’d barely noticed. Certainly more inclusive than the all-male spaces he and Goody often found themselves in, which seemed to be nonstop posturing. Here they seemed to all take turns throwing the conversation around, and while there was a fair amount of talking over each other, as far as Billy could tell it was all done in a friendly way.

 

There was an openness to their body language as well, one that Billy was unused to. In groups of other men, the men would face each other directly, frankly, in a rather impenetrable way. It  _seemed_ open, but it was just a fraction away from squaring off. And while the group of women in the train car all crossed their legs, angled their hips, curved their arms, it seemed warmer somehow. Inviting. Certainly the way they touched each other more frequently kept up that impression. Billy couldn’t imagine what would happen if he curled up next to Goody in a room of only men, rested his head on his shoulder, or took time to play with his hair. But in this room touching just seemed par for the course, the girls going as far as to do up each other’s buttons, play with each other’s hair, or sit in each other’s laps.

 

Billy continued to watch the conversation, but his eyes mostly stayed on Goody, watching him amused but also fondly. Goody had assured Billy that with four older sisters he was well versed in ‘girl talk’ and it certainly seemed to be the case. Goody nodded and gasped and chimed in at all the right moments, and generally just charmed the room in his royal blue dress as much as he did in a suit.

 

Actually…Billy had to admit Goody looked beyond charming right now, legs crossed pertly, heeled ankle swinging, his head tilted coquettishly as he laughed at whatever one of the girls was saying…Billy had gone with a deep red lipstick to match the velvet of his dress but Goody had chosen a smooth pink which brought out the natural colour of his cheeks. Or maybe he was wearing blush too. Billy couldn’t remember. Either way, strange as it was to see him without his beard, Goody just looked…damn good. Billy’s eyes slid over to where his legs were crossed, the hem of his blue dress slipping down his thigh revealing a garter belt which jiggled and bounced with the vibrations of the train…

 

Billy cleared his throat and angled his own hips away from the group, having gone suddenly and achingly hard. Good lord, he had to get a hold of himself.

 

Eventually the managers blazed through the car, hollering for everyone to join them in the next car over for their evening practice. Billy stood up, having gotten himself back under control, and he waited while everyone filed through.

 

Once the last girl had left the car, Goody stood up and smoothed out the skirt of his dress, looking at Billy wryly.

 

“Well so far so good, I guess,” he said in a quiet voice, out of the corner of his painted mouth.

 

Billy nodded, amazed that they’d actually made it this far without seeming to show up on anyone’s radar.

 

“Hard part’s over,” Billy said. “Time for rehearsal.”

 

“At least that I  _know_ how to do,” Goody joked as he smoothed out his dark blonde wig, which matched his complexion perfectly. He was joking about not knowing what he was doing but…

 

“You look good,” Billy blurted out suddenly, unable to help himself. “Like this. Really.”

 

Goody glanced over at him in surprise, and while he tried to give Billy a teasing look, he seemed genuinely pleased by the compliment.

 

“Why thank you,  _Billie_ ,” he said with a wink, Billy’s words apparently having given him a boost of confidence. “Need me to sing your praises too before we go in?”

 

Billy shrugged.

 

“No. I know I look good.”

 

He turned demurely on his heel, smirking over his shoulder at Goody who rolled his eyes but followed him with a grin as they left the car and joined the next one over, the sounds of tuning instruments engulfing them, and the rapping of a baton on a music stand telling them it was time to start.

 

 

*

 

 

 

A couple hours later saw both Billy and Goodnight crammed into the world’s smallest bathroom, struggling into lingerie. It was lingerie intended for sleeping, and Billy figured that was because it was so exhausting to get into that it effectively tired the wearer out before bed.

 

“Can you do up this strap thingy for me?”

 

“Hold on, I can’t get this to –”

 

“The one poking me in the shoulder blade.”

 

“I said hold  _on!_ Okay which one?”

 

“On my back, I think it’s connected to one of the clasps.”

 

“Jesus what the hell is this thing?”

 

“Don’t ask me, it’s like cat’s cradle back there.”

 

Billy managed to fashion some kind of knot from the maze of straps and hooks on the back of Goody’s corset, girdle, brassiere, whatever the hell it was, absolutely positive he’d done it wrong but didn’t care as long as it was holding. He bent down to adjust his garter belt and the train gave a lurch, causing Billy to whack his elbow against the corner of the tiny sink. Billy swore violently.

 

“Billy! Be ladylike!”

 

“I swear to god I am going to kill everybody right now, and I’m starting with the person who designed women’s underwear. You’re second.”

 

“Yes yes, but can you do it quietly? Someone might hear us.”

 

Fuming, Billy straightened up in the cramped stall, garters, stockings, and brassiere firmly in place over his aching limbs. He managed to get his arms over his head, intentionally jostling Goody about in the process, and proceeded to wiggle his way into a black negligee. Goody did the same thing but in a white babydoll sleeper set. They handed each other their matching long robes. They’d stayed full regalia with their underthings, not wanting to risk someone questioning their real figures by wearing too little clothes for sleep, but the long silky robes were an extra security blanket. One that happened to have feather-trimmed sleeves.

 

“Okay. You ready?”

 

Goody nodded, adjusting his wig as he opened the bathroom door a crack. He immediately closed it, turning around and pressing back up against Billy.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Everyone’s changing,” Goodnight said in a peculiar voice.

 

“So? So were we, and – oh jesus, are you  _hard_?” Billy asked incredulously, feeling the press of Goody against him, the smooth line of his robe having been disrupted.

 

“It’s involuntary!” Goody protested weakly.

 

“I can’t believe you,” Billy said scowling, indignant and maybe just a tiny bit jealous.

 

“Oh just because I don’t eat at the restaurant anymore doesn’t mean I forgot how to read the menu,” Goody huffed, pulling his robe around himself.

 

“What does that even  _mean_?”

 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you know you’re the only girl for me.”

 

Billy rolled his eyes while Goodnight peered out of the bathroom again.

 

“Okay let’s just get it over with,” Goody said, opening the door back up, apparently having gotten his situation back under control. Billy, still feeling rather huffy, made sure his robe was securely tied and followed Goody out of the bathroom and into the sleeper car where the girls were perched on their bunks, wriggling out of their stocking, rolling curlers into their hair, and calling out cheerful ‘nighty-nights’ to each other.

 

“Sweet dreams, Georgia!” Goody trilled as they squeezed their way through the throng of silks and satins, already having learned everyone’s names. “Nighty night, Joan!”

 

“Goodnight, Gertrude! Goodnight, Billie!”

 

“Gertrude,” Goodnight said under his breath despondently. “Of all the names you could have given me.”

 

He looked up at Billy who wasn’t listening, having been momentarily distracted by a woman’s bare back as she expertly shimmied into a nightdress, pulling it over her loose breasts which then strained against the bodice once inside, with no need of padding.

 

“Oh what are you looking at?” Goodnight whispered to him in disbelief. “You don’t even like women like that!”

 

“Call it a newfound professional appreciation,” Billy said mildly, watching interestedly as she rolled sheer stockings down a long smooth leg.

 

He glanced back at Goody who was now looking at him amused. But then the train gave another lurch and Goody stumbled against a bunk bed caught off balance, looking jolted beyond the sudden movement of the train. He held onto the ladder of the bunk bed, looking rather peaked, even beneath the makeup. Billy felt a clench of sympathy as he turned his full attention back to Goody.

 

“You alright?” he asked quietly, reaching out for Goody’s arm.

 

“I…yeah,” Goody said with a self-deprecating huff. “Just need a bit of quiet.”

 

Billy rubbed his arm understandingly. “It’s been a long day, huh?” he murmured. Between getting shot at, running for their lives, undergoing a total physical transformation, and then the effort of keeping at the pretense all day, Billy was amazed Goody seemed to be holding up as well as he was.

 

“Nothing a stiff drink wouldn’t fix,” Goody admitted with a sigh. “But this band is a dry outfit apparently. Not a drop on the train.”

 

Billy smiled slightly. “Leave it to me.”

 

Goodnight looked at him curiously, but then the female manager was coming through telling everyone it was time for light’s out and she’d better not find any parties going on unless everyone wanted a dawn rehearsal the next morning.

 

“You take the top bunk,” Billy muttered quickly to Goodnight, undoing the curtains of the berth directly beneath. “I’ll be up in an hour or so.”

 

Goodnight nodded and rubbed Billy’s wrist. Billy resisted the urge to lean in and kiss him, in favour of sliding into his bunk and counting the sleepy steps outside until he was sure it was a good time to enact his plan.

 

An hour or so later, a successful Billy was slipping back into the dark train car, letting the sliding door shut quietly behind him. In his black robe he might as well have been another shadow as he slunk through the rattling car until he reached his berth. But rather than go back in, he climbed up the rickety ladder, pulled open the drawstring of the bunk above, and managed to crawl inside.

 

Goody sat up in bed as Billy climbed in. He’d taken off his long robe, and had strap of his chemise hanging off a pale shoulder.

 

“Well? Where were you?”

 

“You said you needed a drink,” Billy said innocently, pulling two paper cups out of his brassiere.

 

“I thought you were looking particularly buxom,” Goodnight said perplexed as he took a cup. “But where on earth did you get liquor on this train?”

 

“Smuggled it in.”

 

“How?”

 

“I hid your flask and two bottles of whiskey in my double bass,” Billy said, lips twitching. Goodnight stared at him agog, and then was breaking out into a grin.

 

“You goddamn genius. No wonder you sounded flat during rehearsal.”

 

“Keep that up and I’m not sharing,” Billy said mildly, fishing around in his brassiere again, managing to retrieve Goody’s flask. “Ta da.”

 

“Christ,” Goody said, impressed. “What else are you hiding in there?” he asked, peering down the neck of Billy’s chemise.

 

“My eyes are up here.”

 

Goody’s eyes met Billy’s, both of their lips quivering, and finally they both cracked up, covering their mouths so their laughter wouldn’t be too loud, the tension of the day finally seeming to bleed away until they felt like themselves again. However insane this day had been, whatever crazy situations or disguises they found themselves in, at the end of the day it was still just them together like they always were, and Billy wouldn’t change that for the world.

 

“Christ,” Billy said still chuckling as he poured out drinks into their Dixie cups. “What a day.”

 

“Here’s to ladies’ underwear,” Goodnight said, toasting him.

 

“Ladies’ underwear,” Billy agreed solemnly, drinking deep. He polished his off quickly and flopped back onto Goody’s bed with a sigh. Goody poured himself another, tossed it back and did the same, lying next to Billy, their still-stockinged feet rubbing together.

 

“Can’t believe we lasted a day,” Goodnight said. “I really didn’t think it would work.”

 

Billy turned his head on the pillow to look at him, giving him a jokingly stern expression.

 

“Then why’d you suggest it anyways?”

 

“Any excuse to see those legs some more,” Goodnight said with a laugh, reaching out to rub Billy's thigh. "God you're a sight in heels."

 

His fingers grazed the sparse hairs above Billy's garter belt. They’d shaved up to the knee but had still worn stockings to bed in the effort of appearing visibly smooth. Billy’s feet felt hot and a little sweaty, but it was also nice having Goodnight’s fingers teasing along the soft space of skin between the silk stockings and matching black underwear Billy was wearing. Women’s clothing had too many bells and whistles for Billy, but he couldn’t deny the material felt luxurious against him, as did Goody’s fingers which were creeping higher up his thigh, massaging circles into the skin.

 

“Gertrude, you tease,” Billy said with a grin as he stretched languidly in the cramped bunk.

 

Goody smiled and he leaned over catching Billy’s lips in a kiss. Billy met him warmly, slipping his tongue into Goody’s mouth. He managed to turn onto his side to get a better angle and they lay pressed together, Billy’s hand cupping Goody’s newly-shaven jaw, their lips sliding together comfortably. They lay there for a while, kissing lazily, just enjoying the feeling of having the other pressed in close. Goody’s hand slipped into Billy’s robe, creeping up the hem of his chemise, cupping Billy’s backside through the silk drawers, and pulling him closer.

 

Billy shuddered and managed to shrug off his long black robe, left only in his slip of a nightdress which he’d worn over the brassiere, drawers, garters and stockings. He suddenly felt hot all over but not in an uncomfortable way. He leaned back into Goody’s space eagerly, rekindling the kiss, harder and dirtier this time, moaning when the hand on his ass gave it a hard squeeze. And when a lurch of the train brought their hips sliding together, pressed through slippery silk, Billy didn’t think he’d ever gone so hard so fast in his life.

 

When you’d been with someone as long as Billy had been with Goodnight, it became clear when a round of kissing is just for the sake of kissing, or when it’s going to become something more. And it was clear that this was the latter, especially given the way Billy could feel Goody stirring too, the fabric of his slip straining against him. Goody made as though to take it off.

 

“Wait,” Billy said panting as he stilled Goody’s hands.

 

Goody looked at him questioningly and Billy just raised an eyebrow at him, wearing a bit of a grin.

 

“Leave it on.”

 

Goodnight looked momentarily surprised, and then his eyes darkened in comprehension, amusement, and no small amount of lust, and he smoothed down the pale fabric of his chemise. Billy grinned and leaned in to catch his lips again, rolling Goody onto his back and sliding on top of him as best he could.

 

They lay in the tiny bunk, barely enough room for two, but neither noticed the cramped accommodations, kissing and rutting close together as they were. Billy’s hand stroked up the smooth fabric of Goody’s slip, over his chest, his hand cupping the padded brassiere.

 

“Is this weird?” he mumbled grinning, squeezing the false breast just for the hell of it.

 

Goodnight chuckled. “Compared to the day we’ve had? Hardly.”

 

Billy smiled and kissed Goody heatedly, pushing down the strap of his chemise, trailing his lips down Goody’s neck and sucking at the soft skin of his shoulder. Goody let out a shaky breath and cupped Billy’s head, his fingers threading through Billy’s silky blowout, trailing gently down his neck. Their hips were still pressed together, Goodnight hard beneath him, the smooth fabric rubbing together. Billy snaked a hand beneath Goodnight to squeeze at the man’s ass. It felt so warm, soft and firm beneath the small silky briefs he wore, and Billy’s fingers brushed against the rough lace trim in a dizzying contrast.

 

“I,” said Billy between kisses against the man’s neck, “Have been staring. At your ass. All. Day.”

 

Goodnight panted, parting his legs beneath Billy, and – oh yeah, that was good. Billy let out a ragged breath as he pressed his hips down, hands returning to Goody’s waist and the flimsy fabric. And beneath it he could feel the stiffer whalebone shape of the corset or whatever it was Goody was wearing. It was thicker, unyielding beneath his fingers, insisting upon the outline of Goody’s shape, and Billy was left to imagine the real shape of Goody beneath, all the warm skin shifting beneath the stiff, cool cloth.

 

Billy could feel Goody achingly hard now and he slid his hand down Goody’s waist, yanking up the hem of the chemise, fingers going to grip Goody’s thigh, thick and hot against the garter belt, his smoothly stockinged legs wrapping around Billy’s waist as much as they could.

 

They continued rutting together, and Billy didn’t think he’d felt anything better than the smooth slide of their cocks rubbing, bouncing with the jostling movements of the train, the vibrations seeming to fill the whole bunk. The tiny window was beginning to steam up, and Billy felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck into the slip he still had on. Goody’s hands were rubbing over his back, his head thrown back in bliss, fingers catching on the clasp of Billy’s brassiere, fingering the tight band around Billy’s back, but he never took it off. Billy didn’t know if he wanted Goody to or not, but the wondering was turn-on enough.

 

As good as the slide of their hips felt, Billy suddenly felt the all-encompassing need to feel the hardness of Goody in his hand, and he wormed a hand between their bodies sliding it down, vision practically whiting out at the smooth straining fabric.

 

“God…” he said weakly as he squeezed Goody’s erection through the thin material of the underwear. He rubbed and stroked the shape of him, rolling the hard shape of him beneath his fingers eliciting tiny whimpers from Goody. He rubbed his thumb into the front of the underwear and was met with a growing damp spot through the thin silky straining fabric.

 

Billy let out a curse as he savoured the hot, wet patch with the pads of his fingers, Goodnight’s ragged breathing in his ear. He rubbed the heel of his palm against Goody’s groin and felt him swell even further.

 

“Let me suck you,” Billy breathed out impulsively, hit with the sudden overwhelming, almost painful want to get his mouth around Goody, to taste him and feel him between his lips.

 

“God, yes,” Goodnight croaked out, and Billy leaned back to take him in as much as he could, his chest rising and falling beneath the silks and lace that were starting to stick damply to him, his mussed hair, his cheeks flushed, lips parted and eyes half closed. Billy’s mouth was practically watering.

 

He tried to scoot back further to get his head between Goody’s legs but was met with opposition from the back wall. He tried again but found it impossible within the confines of the berth.

 

“Goody,” he said frustratedly in what could only be described as a whine, but he  _needed_ to feel Goody with no barriers between them, needed to free him up to get his mouth around him, just pure skin taking skin.

 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Goody said in a shaky voice, soothing him, already sounding wrecked. “It’s okay, just try to turn. Turn around on me, get your legs…yeah like that.”

 

Billy saw what he was getting at and he managed to pivot over Goody until he was facing the other way. And then he settled back onto the mattress this time, both of them now lying on their sides in opposite directions, Goody’s hips lined up perfectly with his face. His own hips were somewhere near Goody’s pillow, and he could feel Goody’s breath on the tops of his thighs.

 

It was dim in the bunk but Billy could still make out the bulge of Goody through his briefs and he leaned forward with a sigh to press his lips against the swollen outline.

 

Goodnight’s hips gave the tiniest of shallow jerks, and Billy mouthed openly at the straining shape of him again, a hard spike of lust shooting through him. He got an arm around Goody’s hips and managed to reach between his legs, cradling Goody’s balls in his hand. He felt unreal through the lush fabric.  _Glissando_ was the word that popped into Billy’s mind as his fingers slid across the surface of the cloth like they were sliding down the strings of his bass, feeling the pulse of Goody drumming beneath.

 

“Lord, Billy,” came a moan from Goody, somewhere around Billy’s hips. Billy closed his eyes as he mouthed at Goody, tongue swirling and pressing hard over the damp spot on the front of the underwear, and Goody gave another groan as his body curved towards Billy achingly.

 

Billy finally pushed the thin fabric to the side, and Goody’s cock sprang out, heavy and leaking, and Billy wasted no time in laving his tongue down the length of it, the salty hot taste of skin intoxicating over his tongue. It was strange at this angle, Billy’s nose brushing up at Goody’s sack. He kissed the base of Goody’s cock, flooded with the sharp affection he often felt when literally faced with this, the most vulnerable part of Goody’s body. And then Goody whispered his name in a ragged moan and the sentimentality was quickly coloured through with lust. Billy managed to pull Goody’s hips up better towards his face, lowered chin to pull the tip of Goody’s cock into his mouth, then sliding his mouth down over the full length with a hungry moan.

 

He was dimly aware of Goody’s heavy breathing over the sounds of the train and he tightened his mouth and began sucking Goody off in earnest, conscious of his bottom teeth at this angle. It felt beyond seductive having Goody’s skin against his tongue, the feeling of skin on skin a relief for both of them. He bobbed his head sucking determinedly, his hands snaking around to cup Goody’s ass again. He felt closer to Goody like this, at this new angle, his head bowed between Goody’s legs, the tops of his sheer stocking scratching against either side of his face.

 

“Billy, Billy…” Goody was groaning, his head going to rest against Billy’s hipbone.

 

Billy pulled off noisily, catching his breath.

 

“You want someone to hear us?” he said, licking his palm and giving Goody a few short strokes with his hand.

 

“Guess I’d better find a way to occupy myself then,” Goody said faintly, but Billy was already leaning back in to wrap his lips around him again, taking him in deep.

 

He was so focused he almost didn’t realize what Goody was up to on his end, tugging Billy’s silk-clad hips closer to his face. And then he felt Goody slowly peeling down Billy’s black, silky briefs, his breath hot against Billy’s groin.

 

Billy groaned in the back of his throat, his mouth too full to ask Goody what he was doing. But he didn’t need to ask because Goody was now licking a hot stripe down Billy’s rigid length and Billy caught on, his cock  _aching_ at the very idea.

 

“This alright?” Goody asked panting and Billy reached back to tangle his fingers briefly with Goody’s, squeezing them once,  _yes_. Goody released his hand and went back to hook his arms behind Billy’s thighs, pulling him even closer, and then bowed his head to sink his mouth over Billy’s cock.

 

Billy’s practically spasmed at the wet slide that enveloped him. His heart was pounding, his cock throbbing in Goody’s wet, gentle mouth which was sliding over him in an easy, yet heated rhythm, the sounds of slick mouths now filling both ends of the bunk. Billy was hardly able to connect the fullness in his own mouth with the feeling of Goody’s lips rubbing over him too. For all that they’d frequently had their mouths on each other, this was the first time they’d ever done it at the same  _time_. And Billy’s head was spinning at the combined sensations and the added hot rush of Goody’s mouth over him. So he squeezed his eyes shut, bent his head, and continued to suck Goody off, practically vibrating in pleasure as his cock slid in and out of Goody’s own mouth, every groan of Goody’s sending vibrations through Billy as the train rattled along.

 

They lay there for what felt like endless hours, curled into each other tightly, and Billy had never felt more vulnerable in his life. He couldn’t get over how newly  _intimate_ this act felt. Every slide of Billy’s tongue had Goody curling his own tongue around Billy; every drawn-out pull of his lips had Goody sinking down with his own mouth, echoing each other’s movements, hands grasping weakly at whatever parts of each other they could reach, their heads moving languidly in each other’s laps all the while. The whole act felt almost unbearably erotic to Billy, to say nothing of the intense comfort and trust of being in this position. Billy couldn’t help giving tiny thrusts into Goody’s mouth, and he felt Goody do the same to him.

 

Billy could barely concentrate with both the heavenly wet warmth around him and the heavy slide of Goody inside his own mouth. His stomach was tightening and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold off much longer, it was just too much. But first he wanted to taste the rush of Goody, taste the way the man always quivered before falling apart underneath Billy’s tongue. It wouldn’t be longer now, the way Goody’s hips were bucking shallowly, the tip of his cock swelling in Billy’s mouth. He pulled up to suck Goody’s tip hard, and the resumed his steady pace.

 

Goodnight let out a muffled groan on his end, the vibrations through Billy’s cock causing his mouth to tighten, his toes to curl. They curved in close, desperately, hips rocking and hands grasping while they curled into each other as much as they could possibly go.

 

And then Billy felt a hot burst of fluid against his tongue, a low moan from Goody around his cock, and Goody was coming deep into Billy’s mouth in thick pulses, and right from the first taste Billy was an absolute goner. He thrust desperately a few times, and then was coming hard, Goody’s mouth working soothingly around him all the while.

 

They worked each other through it, the weak, wet sounds of their mouths filling the cramped bunk. Eventually Billy pulled off with a weak, blissed-out sigh, hand lightly smacking Goody’s thigh for him to do the same, the cool air around Billy’s wet, spent cock feeling unbelievably good. With extreme effort Billy managed to turn himself around again until he was lying next to Goody properly this time, their damp temples pressed together, one of Billy’s arms slung possessively over Goody while he stared up at the ceiling, breathing hard and trying to gather his wits.

 

“Okay,  _that_ ,” he managed to say while catching his breath, “Was your best idea ever.”

 

Goody let out a strangled laugh, his chest rising and falling hard beneath Billy’s arm. Billy chuckled too and they turned to each other and met in a messy, smiling kiss, Billy shivering for the taste of himself in Goody’s mouth.

 

They pulled apart breathing hard, foreheads still resting together, just listening to the comforting sounds of the other’s steady breathing.

 

Once they had collected themselves enough to move they started to unhurriedly tuck each other back into their clothes, hands running over each other, trading easy kisses. They settled back in together, holding each other, moving a little with the motions of the train. Now that they were otherwise unoccupied they felt newly aware of the way the train was racing across the country with the chugging wheels, the train whistle reminding them of a destination somewhere back in real life.

 

“So what now?” Billy finally asked with a sigh, knowing he had to ask.

 

“Well,” Goody said, his breathing still shallow. “We get to Florida in five days. Figured we’d just jump ship there and figure out our next move.”

 

Billy nodded quietly, hand stroking aimlessly up Goody’s side.

 

“Unless…” Goody said uncertainly, and Billy turned his head to look at him. “Unless you wanted to stick with this group for the time being?”

 

Billy shrugged. It was ridiculous what they were doing, and they were only doing this as a way out of the city. He’d certainly been expecting them to abandon ship once they reached the final destination of the train. But…

 

“I mean we don’t have any other gigs lined up,” Billy said. “And it is good money.”

 

“You becoming a society gal, Billy?” Goodnight asked with a sleepy grin.

 

Billy blushed but couldn’t help a half-smile. “They’re nice. Seems cold to leave them without two instruments once we get there.”

 

“I thought so too,” Goody said. “Just figured you’d say I was crazy if I suggested it.”

 

“Oh you are crazy, but not for that,” Billy said grinning, squeezing Goody’s waist. Goodnight grumbled good-naturedly but leaned in to peck Billy on the lips.

 

“Well we can see how it goes,” Goody said. “Pretty sure we can keep this up as far as Florida. We’ll wait and see if anyone gets suspicious there, and bail if we need to. Besides, if those gangsters are still after us, we have some pretty damn good disguises if I do say so myself.”

 

It sounded good to Billy who kissed Goodnight quickly again, and they continued to lie in the bunk, listening to the rattling of the train outside.

 

Billy was getting sleepy and he angled his head towards Goody, his hair brushing on Goody’s pillow.

 

“I guess I should go back to my bunk soon,” Billy said. “In case they check on us in the morning and find us together.”

 

“No you’re fine,” Goody said contentedly through a yawn, holding Billy closer to him. “Dolores and Cathy bunk up all the time since apparently Cathy is scared of thunderstorms. And Brigitte and Dottie are always having sleepovers since the last time Dottie tried to climb a train ladder drunk after they had a nightcap, she fell and twisted her ankle.”

 

Billy was amused at Goody already being in the gossip stream of the group, and also pleased that he didn’t have to move from his comfortable spot on the bed. The various straps and buttons of his flimsy ensemble were starting to take their toll, but it was easily ignored with the warmth of Goody pressed close beside him. Then he thought about what Goody had said, about how some of the other girls did the same.

 

“Do you think…” he started to say, and then closed his mouth uncertainly. Goody, recognizing that it usually took Billy a couple tries to get out his more personal thoughts, rubbed his hip encouragingly.

 

“Think what?” he asked, some hair from his short wig falling into his eyes.

 

“Do you think things would be easier if we were actually girls?” Billy mumbled hesitantly. “Easier with this, I mean." He gestured to the way they were still intertwined, a sight that would have riled up all but the most liberal of their city acquaintances. They had to keep so much of their affection under wraps, and yet here was a group of women, most of them platonic, and still able to get away with sitting in each other’s laps, playing with each other’s hair, and even sharing a bed. And no one seemed to bat an eye.

 

“Well,” Goody said slowly. “Maybe in some ways. At least when we’re in public.”

 

Billy nodded with a swallow.

 

“But we still get each other in private,” Goodnight continued softly. “And having you at all is more than I ever thought I’d get.”

 

He smoothed some of the hair out of Billy’s eyes and smiled.

 

“Suspenders or stockings, Billy. I just want you.”

 

Billy rolled his eyes, but a smile was twigging at his lips and he leaned forward and kissed Goody deeply.

 

They pulled back, Goody’s eyes twinkling.

 

“Besides. I heard you take my last name back there on the platform. Well, my fake one. But still, that’s about as public a declaration as you can get.”

 

“Okay no,  _I_ was supposed to take Andrews. You were…I forget.”

 

“Uh huh. Your subconscious is, as ever, a fascinatingly revealing place, mon cher.”

 

Billy just grinned, a laugh bubbling up in his chest, but he leaned forward to kiss Goody again instead, letting everything he was feeling come out there.

 

Finally they settled back onto the bed, Billy lifting his arm for Goody to curl in close against his side, enjoying the rise and fall of Goody’s chest next to his.

 

“So we get off in Miami,” he said sleepily. “Play a little there. Get our paychecks, and then hit the road. Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Goody agreed. “And then we can finally ditch these clothes. This wig is driving me crazy.”

 

“Sounds good,” Billy murmured, shutting his eyes. But then a sly smile appeared on his face.

 

“Maybe keep the stockings.”

 

Goody laughed.

 

“As long as you keep the heels.”

 

“Deal,” Billy said, already looking forward to seeing Goody in this same getup again but safely in a bedroom somewhere, where they had more room to maneuver and more light to see by.

 

Although maybe trains weren’t so bad…it was nice having Goody pressed so close, and now the moon was starting to pour through the tiny window and across the shining material of Goody’s getup as they made their way across fields. And you got used to the sway of the train after a while, the motions bring them back and forth…back and forth…

 

Goody’s hand came up to stroke idly through Billy’s hair, and Billy let his eyes fall closed again, lulled by the feeling of his fingers trailing lightly through his hair. And they lay together while the sounds of their quiet breathing and the rattle and sway of the train gradually carried them off into a deep, well-deserved sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
